Dragon
by T. F. Crosby
Summary: No matter what happens, no matter how far away one strays, there are some bonds that can never be broken. Even a bird with a broken wing will still try to fly.
1. Prologue

_Welcome to my second Lab Rats story. This one will be multi-chaptered, though I'm not sure how many chapters it will be. It's also really sad. The prologue is short, but subsequent chapters will be longer. It is obvious who's being talked about in the beginning (and not just because his name is on the character list). However, what the issue is, mayor may not be so clear. If you figure it out, I'll give you a shout-out in the next chapter. the story takes place after_ **Taken.** _A_ nyway, _on with the story._

 **Lab Rats:**

 **Dragon**

 _Prologue_

There was nothing left. He had lost everything. Maybe he deserved it. Maybe he deserved to lose his life's works, everything he had accomplished. _Good and bad._ Perhaps, he needed to be knocked down a few pegs, pay for what he had done. Alone again. No one to back him up, to be there for him—especially because they simply wanted to be. But he was used to it. He had lost that privilege a long time ago. He had earned the 'nothing' that he now had. He deserved that.

But this? This thing that was now taking hold of him, taking him back. This monster that craved his life. Tearing and clawing at him. He shut his eyes tightly, trying to force its hideous face from his mind. This monster…this dragon he had battled head-on in his youth, that he believed he had defeated. _No_. He hadn't defeated it. It had only hid itself until the right time…the right time to return and take him. The dragon was back.

And this time, there was no one there to help him fight. He needed his family, his brother. The brother that had turned him away, that didn't want him.

He hadn't stopped crying since he had returned to his tiny, rundown, studio apartment. There was no television, no bed. Only a couch and coffee table in the main room; a pillow; some blankets; a few articles of clothing; a few necessities for the bathroom and some for the kitchen. He wouldn't have any food had his youngest suh—son not been bringing him some every week. He was more than grateful for that.

And of course, he had a phone. It was just a simple land line, but it was all he needed. He stared at it, laying there on the coffee table in front of him as his tears continued to fall. If he picked up that phone and called him, would his brother listen, or would he just hang up on him before he could finish speaking, before he could tell him? He reached for the phone, his hand shaking. Hesitating, he looked over at the photo sitting on the corner of the table. It was his favorite photo of him and his brother, taken before everything between them fell apart.

He turned back to the phone and taking a deep breath, picked it up and dialed his brother's number.

His tears began to fall harder as soon as he heard his brother's voice on the other end. "Donnie….Yeah, it—it's me….No, please, don't hang up…." There was a catch in his voice. He paused and took another deep breath. "I know I don't deserve anything, but I really need you….It's back, Donnie. The dragon's back."

 **xXx**

 _ **So...yeah. There it is. The other side of the phone conversation will be in the next chapter. Take a deep breath. It's going to get sad-der. I hope you liked the prologue.**_


	2. Chapter One: Two Brothers

Finally. Chapter one is here. And it's fairly long. Mainly because I got on a roll. Late at night. Which for some reason is when my brain decides is the perfect time to come up with ideas. Here you will find out what "The Dragon" is.

A shout-out goes to Asori, who didn't actually guess the correct answer, but was on the right track. However, Asori, that is the correct guess for my other Douglas-based story I'm working on. So here's a virtual cookie for you.

Fun Fact (or not): I used "incredulously" three times in this chapter. I think it's three.

 **Chapter One: Two Brothers**

 _A light breeze rustled through the canopy of the Woodlands. Its multitude of creatures when about as they always did, undeterred by the thundering footsteps headed their way. Birds of various kinds gathered on the branches of the low-setting pines, watching two young boys race through the underbrush._

 _"Come on, slow-poke," the younger of the two boys shouted, the breeze tousling his hair._

 _"Why do you insist on choosing the narrowest paths?" the older boy called back._

 _"It's the quickest way to the cave!"_

 _The older boy rolled his eyes, saying to himself, "right. I forgot."_

 _They raced down the path, bounding over fallen logs and bouncing off the trees. After a few moments the older boy shouted, "you really need to slow down. Pay attention to where you're going before –" and then promptly fell to the ground after getting his foot caught on a root._

 _The younger boy stopped and walked over to the other, helping him to his feet. "_ I'm _the one that should be paying attention to where I'm going?"_

 _"Oh, shut up." They grinned at each other. "Come on, let's go."_

 _The boys continue to race down the path until they came to a clearing and a pristine lake. Smiling at each other, they slid down the hill to the lakeshore and their secret hideout, dubbed "the Daven-cave." They ran into the opening on the side of the north-facing hill, which the younger boy like to call "The Hobbit Hole."_

 _"The opening's too big to be a hobbit hole, doofus," the older boy always said. His comment was always promptly followed by a razzberry from the younger._

 _They stopped at the wall where the two had scribbled their names. "Donald and Douglas Davenport." And written underneath, "Best Brothers Forever."_

* * *

Donald watched the screens intently as his three kids completed their latest mission. It would take a little while for them to get back to the lab with their making sure all the people involved made it out of the area safely. He smiled proudly as he turned to his laptop. Something caught his eye; an icon for a photo folder. He didn't remember any photos being on that particular laptop. His curiosity piqued, he clicked on it. The folder contained a sub-folder entitled "Family." There were photos of Adam, Bree and Chase as children. He smiled as he clicked through them. After a couple dozen photos, he came across pictures of two young boys. Two very familiar young boys. _Himself and Douglas_. His face fell, almost to a sorrowful expression. Then he came to the final photo. The moment that photo held would forever be engraved in his mind.

His phone rang, bringing him out of his thoughts. As he answered, the three bionic teens walked in.

"Hello?... _Donnie_ … Douglas? Is that you?... _Yeah. It-it's me_ … Douglas, I don't have time to talk… _No, please, don't hang up."_ There was something in his brother's voice. Something wasn't right. He waited for Douglas to continue. _"I know I don't deserve anything, but I really need you."_ He could hear the anguish and his younger brother's voice. "Douglas, what's wrong? What happened?... _It's back, Donnie. The Dragon's back."_ Donald nearly dropped the phone.

The three teenagers looked at each other. Chase spoke. "Mr. Davenport?"

He didn't reply, but went back to his phone. "Where are you?... _Foxwood Apartments. Number 21_... I'll be right there."

Grabbing his jacket off the back of his chair as he hung up, he looked back at his kids and smiled softly. "Great job out there, guys. I'm proud of all three of you. Now, I gotta go. I'll be right back."

"Mr. Davenport?"

"Yes, Chase," he replied to the child with _bionic hearing_.

"What did Douglas mean? What's 'the Dragon?'"

Donald sighed heavily. "I'll tell you when I get back."

* * *

A few moments after Donald left the house Leo made his way into the lab. The "rats" were busy staring at Big D's laptop. He sauntered on over. "Whatcha lookin' at?"

"A picture of two weird looking dudes," Adam piped.

"That's Douglas and Mr. Davenport," Chase said, furrowing his brow.

"I know," his older brother replied happily.

Chase just shook his head.

"When was this taken?" Bree asked. "They can't be much older than us."

Leo studied the photo for a moment, then looked at Chase. "Dang… you really do look like Douglas."

Chase stared at him. "Thank you… I guess."

"Best day ever," Adam said. The others looked at him. "That's what it says under the photo."

The youngest bionic thought for a moment. "I wonder if that has anything to do with 'the Dragon.'"

Leo looked at him. "Huh? Hey, where'd Big D go, anyway?"

"Don't know," Bree answered. "He was on the phone with Douglas and then he just left."

A concerned look crossed Adam's face. "I hope Douglas is okay."

Chase's expression fell. "He sounded really upset. As soon as he said 'the Dragon's back,' Mr. Davenport freaked out."

"What's 'the Dragon?'" Leo asked.

"I don't know," Chase answered. "But it doesn't sound good."

* * *

There were four words that Donald Davenport never wanted to hear. Four words that struck terror into his heart. _The Dragon is back_. He shuddered at the thought as he drove to his brother's apartment. They both believed it would never come back. He huffed. The idealism of youth. Both of them were far too idealistic back then. Maybe they still were.

He sighed heavily at the darkening clouds as a loud clap of thunder rumbled through the sky. "Of course," he said under his breath. "Why would this day be sunny and cheerful?"

Small drops of rain hit the windshield just as he pulled into the parking lot of Foxwood Apartments. He jumped out of the car and rushed up the stairs to Douglas's apartment, right as the downpour began. He glanced back out across the street. The cars in the lot on the other side were barely visible. He recalled the words that he had said to Douglas all those years ago as he stood at the door. It was a promise. A promise that he would never break. _No matter what happens between us in the future, no matter how good or bad things are between us, if this ever comes back you call me. I don't care if we're not talking to each other. You call me and I'll be there_. Donald wondered if his brother still believed it.

"Won't be driving back home in this." He took a deep breath and knocked on the door.

* * *

Douglas sat on the floor, hunching over slightly, his lower back barely touching the couch. With his right knee up, his elbow resting on it and his head resting on his hand, he held the photo of his brother and himself in his left hand, staring longingly at it. Tears fell onto the wooden frame and glass. He was at the point where he didn't really care whether or not the tears ever stopped.

A loud knock at the door pulled him from his thoughts.

"Douglas. It's me."

 _He actually came_. Douglas stood up, wiping the tears from his eyes, and walked to the door. As he opened the door a blast of cool air hit him in the face. He sighed, inhaling the fresh scent of the rain he hadn't realized had begun to fall.

"Didn't think you'd actually come," he said solemnly, looking at his brother.

Donald sighed, saying softly, "of course, I'd come. I made a promise to you that day."

Douglas stepped out of the way for his brother to walk in. "It's not much, but… Yeah." He closed the door and waved Donald over to the couch. "Would you like something to drink?"

"No, I'm okay right now."

Douglas nodded. They stared at each other for a moment. "Well… Have a seat," Douglas said.

"Thanks." Donald looked at his brother as they sat down. It was clear by the look in his little brother's face that he was desperately trying to hold back his tears. It was just like when they were kids. Neither one of them like to cry in front of the other. He picked up the photo from the table. "When did they start?"

"Right after Krane unfroze me," Douglas replied, looking at his brother. "I mean right after Krane unfroze me. Worst pain I ever felt."

"What did Krane say?"

Douglas huffed. "Krane? Say anything in concern for anyone?"

Donald put his hands up and mock defense. "Okay… Stupid question." He paused. "How often?"

The younger Davenport leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "For the first couple months, maybe once a week. They didn't start to become frequent until after the kids escaped from –" he suddenly stopped, clutching his head and closing his eyes tightly.

The color drained from Donald's face. "Douglas." He tried to stay calm. They'd been through this before. But it felt so much worse. It was worse.

"It'll pass," Douglas said through gritted teeth. "It's been hurting all day. I can handle it." He leaned back, take a deep breath. "It's not like a normal headache."

"Why didn't you tell me sooner?"

Douglas looked at him incredulously. "You weren't in any mood to listen."

The older Davenport looked down, rubbing the back of his neck.

"It's all right," Douglas continued. "Not like I deserved to have you listen to me."

Donald looked at him. "That's not true."

"Maybe."

"How bad is it?" Donald asked, decided it was best to move the conversation forward.

Douglas took a deep breath. "Two. The doctor said it would quickly become a three." Donald sighed and leaned back, rubbing his face. "Twenty-two years, Donnie," Douglas continued. "Twenty-two years. How – how is it even possible?" He paused. "So much for that cure. Never thought it would come back." He looked at his brother. "How stupid is that?"

"It's not stupid," Donald chided.

Douglas huffed. "Yeah, well, it feels like it."

The brothers sighed. Donald squeezed his brother's shoulder. "So what's the plan?"

"They wanna start with surgery. Remove as much of the tumor as they can. They don't know if they can get it all or not." He slowly stood up.

Donald furrowed his brow. "Douglas?"

"I'll be right back."

"Are you okay? What's wrong?"

"Just a little nauseous," Douglas answered, walking towards the bathroom.

Donald waited on the couch until he heard the sound that had made him sick to his stomach the first time his little brother went through this. He quickly got up and rushed to the bathroom. Seeing Douglas hunched over the toilet bowl, vomiting, he knelt down beside him and started rubbing his brother's back, just as he had done numerous times when they were teenagers.

"Just like the good old days, huh?" Douglas said just before a second round of vomit force its way out.

"Yeah…" Donald pursed his lips. _Just like the good old days_.

When his brother was done heaving, Donald brought him a glass of water and helped him to his feet, slowly. "You feeling dizzy at all?" he asked.

"A little," Douglas replied softly. "I really hate this, Donnie."

"I know, Dougie. So do I." He waited a few moments for his little brother to get his bearings. "You good now?"

"Yeah. I'm good."

They walked back into the main room to the couch where Douglas nearly missed it altogether as he sat down. He caught the edge and slid onto the floor, kicking the coffee table out of the way. Despite the rough and sudden move the table received, the photograph of the two brothers remained standing. Donald sat down next to him.

Douglas sighed. "What do I tell the kids?"

"I'll take care of that," Donald replied softly.

The younger Davenport sat quietly, wishing he had something he could throw across the room. "Ya know, I honestly believed I'd be in this alone. I was scared to death sitting in that doctor's office, hearing the results. I felt so alone. But what I feared most was you not caring." Tears started to slide down his cheeks.

Donald pulled his brother into his arms. "I made a promise to you a long time ago. And I'm not about to break it."

Douglas didn't speak.

"I'm not gonna let you walk alone."

He wasn't sure how long they had been sitting there, but it didn't feel like any time had passed at all. Douglas's head was now laying on his shoulder. Donald wasn't entirely sure if his brother was asleep, but it didn't really matter. He looked at his watch; it was nearing six.

"Douglas." He gently shook his brother.

"Yeah?" The younger Davenport lifted his head.

"Get your stuff together." Donald stood up, pulling Douglas to his feet. "It's time to go home."

"Donnie…"

"Just get your stuff together," Donald repeated softly. "I need to call Tasha."

Douglas obliged and began gathering the little that he had. He stood in the bathroom, dropping various objects from the medicine cabinet into a large duffel bag that sat on the toilet. There wasn't much and he wasn't sure if he really needed to bring any of it, but he tossed all of it into the bag, anyway. A bottle of aspirin bounced off the bag and onto the floor. Douglas sighed heavily and bent down to pick it up. As he straightened back up, a sharp pain shot through his head and down the back of his neck. He gripped the sink, tightly. The pain passed quickly and he tossed the aspirin into the bag. He walked a few feet to the open closet where his clothes had been placed. Sighing, he packed his clothes and zipped up his bag.

When he walked back into the main room, his brother was off the phone. "What'd you tell her?" he asked wearily.

Donald turned to face him, a thin smile was on his face. "That I was bringing you home and that we had a lot to discuss when I got back."

"So, you didn't tell her."

"No. But she did ask what was wrong. I told her I'd tell her when we got there."

Douglas nodded. "What about the kids?"

"I'll tell them. You need to get some rest as soon as we get home. Tasha's making up a room for you."

"You don't hafta do this, Donnie."

"I know." Donald paused. "You got everything?"

"All that I need."

He nodded. "Let's go."

* * *

 _His headaches were persistent. No matter what they tried, the headaches would not go away. He would only have a few days of relief before they were back with a vengeance. With two months of unbearable pain passing, his parents decided to take him to the hospital._

 _After numerous tests and the agony of waiting for the results, the whole family now sat in the doctor's office, waiting to hear the words none of them wanted. They knew it was a tumor, but now they were waiting to hear what kind._

 _The doctor stepped in and greeted the family, then sat down in a chair opposite them. Twelve-year-old Douglas Davenport stared at the floor, his hands on his face. His older brother sat next to him, staring intently at the doctor. Their parents' demeanors were somewhere in between. As the doctor spoke, the twelve-year-old shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He knew what was coming, he knew exactly what the doctor was going to say. Then the doctor said that awful word._ Cancer _. For him, the man may as well have said "Douglas, we're going to put you before the firing squad."_

 _He looked up at his parents. His dad's hands were trembling as he stared past the doctor; his mom was on the verge of tears. Then he looked at his brother._

* * *

Cancer _. The word tumbled around in the teenager's head. His parents were on the verge of losing it and his little brother just sat there, off in his own world. He supposed Douglas had seen it coming. The kid was smart. Knowing his brother, he wouldn't shed a tear until he was alone – or just with their parents. The two of them didn't like to cry in front of each other._

 _He sighed. For the first time in his life, Donald Davenport felt lost. Before this day, he always knew what to do, how to fix things, no matter what it was. But this… This… He was lost. He had no idea what to do._

 _Donald turned to his little brother, telling the boy the only thing he could. "It's gonna be okay, Dougie."_

* * *

With the rain coming down in sheets, visibility was at a minimum and it took Donald almost forty minutes get the two of them home. Little in the way of conversation was exchanged between the two. Douglas had fallen asleep within ten minutes of leaving the apartment, so Donald decided to make a quick call to Tasha and explain what was going on instead of waiting. She was horrified. Donald pulled into the garage. The younger Davenport didn't so much as stir, even as the car came to a stop.

"Hey, Douglas." Donald shook his brother gently. "We're home."

Yawning, Douglas stretched, then opened his eyes. He rubbed his eyes fervently. "Home. Never thought I'd hear you say that to me again."

Donald smiled softly. "Come on, little brother."

Knowing that the kids would still be messing around in the lab, touching everything – okay, they had to hurry and get in the house.

They were met at the front door by Tasha who completely ignored Donald and immediately began mothering Douglas.

"Hi, babe. Good to be home. Look who I brought," Donald said, seemingly to himself. Technically, he was saying it to himself.

"How are you feeling?" Tasha said to Douglas after giving him a hug.

"Nauseous. Mostly."

"This is so horrible," she replied. "I'm so sorry."

Douglas gave her a small smile. "There's nothing to be sorry for."

Hanging his jacket up, Donald said to his wife, "why don't you get Douglas settled. I'm gonna go talk to the kids."

* * *

Unable to stand the wait any longer, Chase rushed upstairs only to run into Donald who was on his way down.

"Mr. Davenport. Where's Douglas? Is he okay?"

"He's here, Chase. Calm down," Donald said calmly. "Tasha's helping him get settled."

"I wanna see him."

Donald could hear the teenager's heart pounding. "Chase, calm down."

"What took you so long?"

"The rain. Now go back into the lab. I need to talk to all of you."

Chase stared at him for a moment, then pushed past him, rushing into the front room of the house. Donald sighed and headed to the lab. _Well, Dougie. Looks like you get Chase._

* * *

When Chase reached the kitchen, Douglas was already seated at the counter with a glass of water in front of him.

"Douglas!"

The man turned his head at the sound of his son's voice. "Hey, Chase."

"Hey." He stood a few feet away, obviously contemplating something. Douglas watched him carefully, trying to figure out what thoughts were running around in the kid's head, though he did have his suspicions.

"You okay?" Douglas asked.

"I should be asking you that," Chase replied.

He looked at his glass of water, then back at Chase. If the kid wanted to know, he would have to ask. It sounded mean, but Chase needed to prepare himself to hear the answer.

Chase walked up to him. Taking a deep breath, he asked, "what's 'the Dragon?'"

It was now Douglas's turn to take a deep breath. He looked at Chase. The boy could see the sadness and pain in his eyes. "It's cancer."

Chase's eyes widened. "What?"

"I have brain cancer."

* * *

As soon as he stepped into the lab, he was bombarded with questions. "What took you so long?" "Where's Douglas?" "Is he okay?" "What's 'the Dragon?'" "Why are you still funny looking?"

Bree and Leo turned to Adam as Donald grimaced. "Really, Adam," Bree said.

"It's a valid question."

Donald shook his head. "Look…"

"What's wrong with Douglas?" Bree asked, interrupting him.

"The photo on my laptop that I know you guys looked at… That was the day we found out Douglas went into remission."

"You mean Douglas had cancer?" Adam queried.

The other two teens stared at him in surprise. Bree started to open her mouth.

"I know stuff," Adam said incredulously, stopping her.

Leo tried to lighten the mood – at least a little. "He looks better bald than you do with hair, Big D."

Donald grimaced, and then continued from where he had left off. "When we were kids, Douglas was diagnosed with a brain tumor and it was cancerous. He battled it for years and it made him horribly sick. But he beat it. And being the idealistic youths that we were, we believed it would never come back. That was over twenty years ago."

The three teens looked at him, all with sad eyes. A long silence followed.

Adam finally spoke, breaking the stillness. "But it came back."

Donald look at them sadly. "Yeah."

"So that's what 'the Dragon' is," Bree said.

He nodded. "I'll be taking Douglas to the doctor tomorrow so we can figure out a plan of attack." He paused. "He has a very rough throat ahead. It's likely this will be much worse this time." He paused again, trying to hold back his tears. "Douglas… May not… He may not win this time."

* * *

Chase was frozen. He couldn't move, he couldn't speak. He just stood, his heart pounding. Those words "I have brain cancer" echoed through his head. So that's what _the Dragon_ is. _Cancer_.

"Chase? Chase."

Douglas's voice pulled him out of his reverie. He looked at his father for a moment. Douglas stood as the teenager finally started to move forward. Before either of them knew it, they had each other in an embrace, crying. They were unsure of how long they had been standing there when Tasha came downstairs.

"Chase? Douglas?"

Father and son let go of each other and turned to face her. "Hey," Douglas said as both wiped the tears from their eyes.

Without saying anything, she gave them each a hug and turned them to the couch. "Go. Sit and talk. I'm going to start dinner."

Both made their way to the couch and sat in silence, until Chase finally spoke. "I saw some pictures of you and Mr. Davenport when you were younger."

"Yeah…? What'd you think?"

"Has your hair stuck straight up all your life?"

Douglas laughed lightly at the grin on Chase's face. "Pretty much."

Chase's expression turned sober. "How old were you?"

"I was twelve."

"Twelve?" Chase was stunned.

Not surprised at his reaction, Douglas replied, "yeah. I know. How am I still alive?"

The teen grimaced. "Well, I wasn't going to put it quite that way."

"It's okay. I'm just as shocked as you. If not more so. I should be dead."

Chase looked at him incredulously. He couldn't believe what he was hearing. "Just hear me out," Douglas continued. "At the time I was diagnosed most types of cancer were still pretty much a death sentence and mine was right at the top. So many of the kids I met died. I believed I was going to."

"But you didn't."

"No. I've long surpassed the five-year survival rate of today."

"I guess there really are such things as miracles. Smartest man in the world and I can't figure it out."

Douglas smiled, laughing lightly. Chase couldn't help smiling himself. A short silence followed.

"The last picture in that file," Chase continued, "one of the two of you. Older. It said 'best day ever.' When was that?"

"That was either the day we found out I went into remission or possibly it was the year after I went into remission. Right after my check up when I was told I was still cancer free. Doctors were amazed at that. I went in for yearly checkups until I was almost thirty and there was still no sign of the cancer."

Douglas suddenly grew quiet. The pressure inside his skull was increasing. He leaned forward, grabbing his head. Watching him closely, Chase started to panic. His father's teeth were clenched and his eyes were shut tight.

"Douglas?"

"It's okay," the teen heard him say through gritted teeth. "It'll pass."

After what felt like minutes, at least for Chase, Douglas relaxed. He took in a deep breath. "That one really hurt."

"You okay?" Chase asked, fear in his voice.

"Yeah… I'm okay."

The expression on the boy's face was disheartening. He seemed to be taking this harder than him. Douglas put his arm around the teen shoulders and kissed him on top of the head.

"It's only gonna get worse, isn't it?" Chase said solemnly.

Douglas's sigh was just a solemn. "Yeah, it is."

They sat in a brief silence once more, and then Chase, being the ever inquisitive person that he was said, "what are the headaches like?"

Douglas huffed. "They're like wrecking balls inside my head. They make you wanna bang your head against the wall. Don't be shocked if I start doing that."

"Please, don't," Chase pleaded.

"I'll try not to," he replied, smiling softly.

Once again, though not really wanting to know – not that he didn't already – being who he was, Chase asked, "what's the chance of you beating the Dragon for the second time?"

"Pretty sure I don't have one." Douglas sighed, looking at the floor. After a few moments he looked back at his son. He could see the fear in the boy's eyes. "But that doesn't mean I'm going to roll over and give up. I will fight this."

"I can't lose you." Chase felt a tear trickled down his cheek. "Not again."

For as much as he wanted to tell Chase "you won't," he couldn't. It would be a lie. _And they both knew it_.

"I know I've never said it, but it's always been true," Douglas said as Chase leaned into him.

"What's that?" Chase mumbled softly.

Douglas looked at him. "I love you."

The teenager looked into the man's eyes. Yes, Douglas did mean what he said. Chase settled his head back on his father's shoulder. "I love you, too."

Chase closed his eyes and sighed lightly. He knew his brothers and sister would come barreling in at any moment, so he took the opportunity to savor the quiet moment.

 _ **Lab Rats**_

Aaannnnddd there it is. I'm so horrible. Why do I do this to the characters I love?


End file.
